


A Question of Speed

by Kore88



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crowley is a giant drama queen (Good Omens), Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Scene: The Ritz (Good Omens), Service Top, Song: Wet Dog (Mad Caddies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kore88/pseuds/Kore88
Summary: Going fast seemed appropriate for a Demon, he thought. He could play fast and loose, pull a fast one; live in the fast lane. Yes, fast was definitely appropriate. But snakes also moved slowly, lazy coils wrapped around themselves basking in the light. That slowness was something Crowley craved, desired but so often failed to find. Whenever he found it though Aziraphale, oh Aziraphale, was the light he basked in.The first time he made an Effort and imagined the angel as His Angel. He thought it would be quick, something fast and dirty. But in the garden of his thoughts he could go nothing but slow with Aziraphale. His fantasies were languorous, luxurious strokes. Fingers slowly caressing and mapping every inch. The gentle brush of dark wings contrasted against purest white skin.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 136





	A Question of Speed

**Author's Note:**

> "So tell me that you want it  
> So many things I need to know  
> You can't hide your secrets  
> And nothing's sacred  
> When we're here all alone"

When snakes strike they do it at blistering speed, lightning fast and deadly. Crowley often thought that was where he got it from. The speed, hurried gestures, the quick wit, the going fast. _You go to fast._ It hadn’t been there at first, this drive for speed within him. He liked to say he sauntered vaguely downwards. But the Fall itself had been sudden, as brutally fast as any snake strike. It was the feeling of having a rug pulled out from under you, if only that rug was infinity.

The second time he fell was just as fast, a bolt striking him sudden and all at once. Stood on a wall where paradise was meant to be behind him, but it turned out to be stood next to him. This fall, for all its breath taking speed, had none of the loss of its predecessor. In fact, to Crowley it felt like just a little bit of Infinity being given back.

It had been the first time since his descent that the swooping feeling of falling within him had gone away, even for a moment. The sensation of falling was always something he was trying to escape. So he went fast, as if he could somehow go fast enough to leave the feeling behind him. He moved fast, talked fast, even his temptations were quick compared to other Demons. Not for him the meticulously chipping away at a soul. Even his longest plans resulted in a temptation that was itself instantaneous. An immediate burst of anger, lust or irritation. His actions the quick splash of a thrown pebble, sending their ripples out into the world.

Going fast seemed appropriate for a Demon, he thought. He could play fast and loose, pull a fast one; live in the fast lane. Yes, fast was definitely appropriate. But snakes also moved slowly, lazy coils wrapped around themselves basking in the light. That slowness was something Crowley craved, desired but so often failed to find. Whenever he found it though Aziraphale, oh Aziraphale, was the light he basked in.

The first time he made an Effort and imagined the angel as His Angel. He thought it would be quick, something fast and dirty. But in the garden of his thoughts he could go nothing but slow with Aziraphale. His fantasies were languorous, luxurious strokes. Fingers slowly caressing and mapping every inch. The gentle brush of dark wings contrasted against purest white skin. Slow deliberate thrusts that spoke not of haste and snatched passion, but a deliberate, abiding connection.

He thought he had done well at moving slowly with the Angel over the years. A steady, gentle dance unlike anything else he ever did. A halting progression from their first conversation, to Oysters in Rome. From adversaries to the arrangement. For centuries he had been like a snake coiling itself around its prey. Inch by careful inch, so by the time they noticed it was far too late. Although if his aim was to devour Aziraphale it was much more in the manner of giving than taking. It seemed though that even when he was trying so hard to go slow, when he thought he was succeeding; He still did not move slowly enough.

“You go to fast for me Crowley”

Those words could not have burned Crowley more than if Aziraphale had somehow found his flaming sword and carved them into Crowley’s soul. He had sat in the Bentley, staring at the tartan flask in his hands. The words had hurt, but this was concession from the angel and when he handed it over there had been something of a confession. It wasn’t the confession he wanted. The one he dreamed of, but didn’t really expect. Still it was something. Perhaps if he just went slower. One thing they both had plenty of was time.

When Armageddon started he realised just how wrong he had been about that as well. Now he needed to go faster, should perhaps have been going faster all along. The final days were a frantic rush to save the world, to save the two of them or even just Aziraphale. There had been the moment when for all his speed he hadn’t been fast enough. The rush across London, only to find a burning bookshop. An empty shell that spoke of a loss, that already hurt more than anything since the loss of his connection to heaven and all God’s grace. Somewhere deep inside a voice was hissing that no, thisss, this was worse.

Now though they were here at the Ritz. After everyone and everything they were back to the two of them together and they had time again stretching out before them. He finally had one of those precious moments of slowness he craved here with Aziraphale. He just had to lean back, and sip his champagne as is he was savouring it. When really what he was savouring was the Angel, and every second they got to spend together. Confident that his dark glasses hid his eyes; he could use them to trace every movement his counterpart made. Watching those fingers wrapped delicately around the champagne flute. The slight swell, and flex of the muscles in his arm as he bought his hand up towards his mouth in a gentle sweep. The soft parting of his lips, and the shine of champagne bubbles popping against them. Crowley tracked the movement of the Angels throat, watching the gentle convulsion of him swallowing. Before flicking his eyes back upwards to catch the sweet sigh of contentment that fell from Aziraphale’s lips.

Crowley didn’t take his eyes of Aziraphale for nearly an hour. The angel was on the last of his cakes. A petit four that had oozed cream as Aziraphale passed it between his lips. Leaving a small, white dollop at the edge of the Angel’s mouth. Crowley had been expecting to see Aziraphale raise his napkin to his lips and primly wipe the cream away. So he was entirely unprepared when the Angel’s tongue slipped out from between his lips, licking them clean instead. This was the point where he had to look away, and if later asked would vehemently deny emitting a noise that was something between a sigh and a hiss.

“Are you quite all right my dear?”

Crowley raised his head to find that he was now the one being watched.

“mm fine Angel, just uh drunk some champagne the wrong way.” He responded hoping the Angel has been to absorbed in his cakes to notice that the demon’s glass had been empty for the last ten minutes. Aziraphale’s eyes flicked to the empty glass, and a slight furrow appeared between his eyebrows. Crowley waited for the inevitable question but instead the two sat there in a silence that lasted just a little bit too long.

“I suppose it’s time to be going.” Aziraphale said before Crowley could think of something to break the tension. After that, the dance of paying the bill and leaving the restaurant was the only conversation between them. They were reaching the point in their walk home when realistically they should part. One headed for Soho and the other for Mayfair. The demon was cursing himself for inadvertently ending the afternoon when the Angel spoke.

“Perhaps you would like to accompany me back to the bookshop, I believe I had a case of Louis Roederer Cristal somewhere, that is if it’s still there”

“Yesss” Crowley has responded before the Angel has finished the offer. Realising he had answered to quickly, (to fast Crowley, slow down). He affected a casual lean, succeeding despite the fact that he was in the middle of the pavement and had nothing but thin air to lean against.

“I suppose; I have nothing better to do with the rest of my day after all”

The angel smiled as if something had amused him.

“Jolly good then, let’s go see if we can find it then shall we?” he said amicably before starting to stroll in the direction of the bookshop.

The case was indeed still there when they reached the shop.

“The original vintage created for Tsar Alexander II, you know” Aziraphale had said happily pouring the wine into two freshly miracled champagne flutes. Which naturally lead to a conversation about the early 1800’s and reminiscing about when he had first opened the book shop. Several bottles later he was wandering around the shop remarking loudly about the new additions that dear boy Adam had made.

Crowley was stretched on the sofa. He knew the angel couldn’t see him at the moment so he allowed himself to smile fondly at every remark he made. He hadn’t slept last night, between being too wired from the events at the airfield and them planning the body swap. So now between the feeling of still contentment he felt at being in the Angels presence and the effects of the aged champagne, he found a heaviness slowly creeping over him.

He was in his snake form, coiled up on the wall trying to warm himself in the sun when he felt a presence settle beside him. He knew it was his angel instantly as he could feel him burning. Not in the way that still terrified him from seeing the empty bookshop, or even with heavenly power as other angels burned. This was love and light and warmth that was all Aziraphale. Oh how Crowley wanted that heat, wanted to wrap himself in it and make a home there, warm inside its embrace. The temptation was too much, pulling him closer to the Angel. He couldn’t resist.

Crowley had just enough awareness to guess that he was dreaming and could allow himself to give in. He knew he was dreaming for sure when the Angel reached out a finger, barely brushing it over the scales at the back of his head. Crowley felt the Angel’s touch and it was like a siren call. He gave in entirely to his desire, slowly wrapping himself around the angel, trying to touch as much of him as possible. Aziraphale’s hand moved with him, softly stroking the back of his head as he wove his way up the angel’s chest. When he reached the Angel’s neck he stopped, resting his head against the angel’s shoulder and enjoying his soft caress. Hesitantly he flicked his tongue out, wanting to discover the taste of the skin that was tantalisingly available above the starched white collar.

“Crowley” hearing his name moaned bought him back to wakefulness and he opened his eyes to find his face pressed to Aziraphale’s neck. The angel was sat on the sofa and Crowley had somehow migrated to Aziraphale’s lap, legs and arm wrapped around him. Before he could fling himself off the sofa in embarrassment he realised that he could still feel the angels touch. Fingers were slowly stroking his hair and he could still taste the angel on his tongue. Cautiously he reached out his tongue again, slowly licking the soft white skin of the angel’s neck. He felt the Angel’s sharp inhale before he heard it. He started to pull away, thinking he might have made a mistake but the hand at the back of his head exerted a gentle pressure. Softly pushing him back and holding him exactly where he wanted to be.

He breathed in the scent of his angel, before pressing his lips in a reverent kiss against the side of his neck. He parted his lips, and ran his tongue against the angel’s skin. Revelling in the opportunity to thoroughly taste. He took his time before moving slightly and finding the next patch of skin to explore. There was so much he needed to know, so many unanswered questions. He was determined to fill himself a vault of answers whilst he was allowed to touch, to taste, and feel. He was going to start by mapping every inch of Aziraphale’s gorgeous pale throat. As he explored he moved one of his hands to the angel’s chest, directly above the angel’s heart. He wanted to know exactly which spots made it beat faster.

After what felt like an eternity, but was still far less time than Crowley could have spent, he had explored every part of the angel’s neck that he could reach. But there was still so much tantalisingly out of reach. He needed to know if the spot under his left earlobe would elicit the same exhilarating reaction as the right hand side had done. Slowly he shifted position. Contorting himself so that he could move without removing his lips from Aziraphale's throat. His movement ended with him straddling the angel, his knees hitting the back of the sofa and his back arched. His new position bought with it a novel sensation, a distinct hardness between his legs contrasting with the softness of the rest of his angel. The feeling of it against his thighs and all of its staggering implications was too much for Crowley to focus on right now. The sweet spike of pleasure was almost overwhelming, he needed to ground himself before he flew to high and risked falling all over again.

So he channelled all his focus into his cataloguing of the angel’s neck. Giving the newly accessed left side the same treatment as the right. Registering the occasional hitch and press of Aziraphale’s crotch as nothing but further information for his study. He reached a point where he had two choices, up or down. He could loosen the tartan bow tie, undo a button or two and reveal soft white skin that he had not been able to see for centuries. Or he could move upwards, trace his lips up Aziraphale’s jaw and feel the press of his lips for the first time. The latter was by far the riskier option, allowing himself to see and be seen, but the desire to give in and properly kiss Aziraphale for the first time was overwhelming.

He moved upwards nosing along Aziraphale’s jaw, lips millimetres away from the angels. He hesitated before moving further, pulling back so he could see the angels face. Aziraphale’s eyes, flicked open, bright blue and shining like the light of supernovas Crowley had once held in his hands. Their gazes remained locked for a moment, reminding Crowley of the way helpless creatures stood transfixed by the eyes of a snake. Although this time he felt as if he was the one being hypnotised. He had to be absolutely sure, had to know before he could continue. He raised a hand brushing a finger lightly against Aziraphale’s lips and tried to remember how talking worked.

"Tell me that you want this" he managed, no conscious thought left to be ashamed of the hitch in his voice.

"Oh, Crowley" the angel gasped " yes" his lips brushing against the demon’s finger.

"I need you to tell me" Crowley said again, exercising the full restraint of his self-control, he needed the comfort of absolute certainty to bridge the six-thousand-year gap between them.

Aziraphale took a deep breath, before responding. His voice steady, smooth and sure, "I want this."

Crowley struck then, his hand sliding to cradle the Angels face as he pressed their lips together for the first time. He held himself for a minute, savouring the simple experience of just lips pressed against lips. His intent was to go slowly again, start with soft, chaste kisses. Gentle presses of their mouths together. But Aziraphale groaned deeply, his hand gripped Crowley's neck and pulled him closer. Parting his lips and darting out his tongue to lick at Crowley’s lips; as if he was the dessert Aziraphale wanted to savour every last drop of. The desire to give his angel everything he craved and his own need meant Crowley had no trouble giving into Aziraphale’s deepening of the kiss. He parted his own lips, greedily savouring every sensation as his tongue entered Aziraphale for the first time.

As a Demon he didn't really have any need to breathe. Sure these corporations got into the habit, but he could and had gone hours without a single breath before. But now, suddenly he found himself craving air like he never had before. Reluctantly pulling back from Aziraphale and taking deep, gasping breathes as if he was drowning. He supposed he was in a way, awash with so many emotions and sensations after millennia of drought. He carefully regulated his breathing, focusing on the angel’s eyes to centre himself. Carefully collecting the tattered strands of his self-control.

He decided he needed to set the pace again. Stop himself from going too fast, He needed to make sure he could savour every second of this gift he never actually expected to receive. He smiled in momentary amusement as his finger reached to undo the tartan bowtie.

"What is it?" Aziraphale asked, breathless in a way that made Crowley want to coil around him with a satisfied hiss.

"I was just thinking about how nicely wrapped you are for me, there's a bow on top on everything"

" Really my dear, you .." whatever Aziraphale was going to say was lost in a moan, as Crowley leaned forward to thread his hand around the back of his neck to gently pull the bow tie free from under his collar. The change in angle creating extra pressure against the Effort between Crowley's thighs. Crowley deftly slipped the bowtie off the angel’s neck before carefully folding it and placing it on the arm of the sofa next to him. Aziraphale let out a small huff as Crowley rocked himself backwards, taking some of his weight off the angel's lap. The sound reminded Crowley of the noise Aziraphale made when a waiter told him they were out of the pudding he had been particularly looking forward to. He filed the knowledge away in his ever growing list of things Aziraphale enjoys before reaching down to undo the top button of the angel’s shirt.

"You know I could just ..." Aziraphale spoke, accompanying the words with a little hand wave.

Crowley lent down and licked the newly exposed path of skin, dragging his tongue up at torturous pace before stopping centimetres way from the Angels lips which had parted in anticipation.

"Don't" he said hovering above the angel’s mouth, so their lips brushed as he shaped the word.

"Very, ... " The angel’s breath hitched as Crowley reached down and slid his fingers under the bottom of Aziraphale’s waistcoat, "very well then."

Crowley rewarded his angel with a kiss. Then reached his hands up to brush across the front of Aziraphale’s waistcoat, fulfilling a long held desire to find out just how soft the material was against his fingers. Once he started he found he couldn’t stop, enthralled by the way his fingers left trails in the crushed velvet. He traced patterns and designs, revelling in the fact that he could leave some small mark upon the angel.

"Really, Crowley must you" Aziraphale sounded a fond mix of irritated and amused

"mmm sorry Angel" Crowley mumbled whilst not actually regretting his actions one bit. He reached out to draw one final mark, tracing the image of a heart with his fingers, a declaration he couldn’t bring himself to make aloud just yet. He reached out hands and carefully smoothed down Aziraphale’s waistcoat.

"There you are Angel, good as new"

"I'll always know it’s there,” the angel paused, “underneath I mean.".

Crowley quickly turned his attention to the buttons on Aziraphale’s waistcoat, hoping he could hide how red his face had suddenly become. He focused on undoing each of the fiddly black buttons, giving himself a moment to recover from the sappiness. He had just about recovered himself by the time he was able to open the waistcoat fully, sliding his hands underneath to lightly circle Aziraphale’s waist under his jacket. The thin white shirt the only thing left between his hands and Aziraphale’s skin.

That was still one more layer then he wanted thought, he could already feel the angel starting to squirm as his fingers slightly brushed his waist. It would be far easier to discover the places that affected Aziraphale the most without his shirt in the way. He bought his hands slowly back round to sweep them up Aziraphale’s chest, exerting a light pressure as he did so. Taking a second to appreciate the rapid beat of the angel’s heart beneath his palm. he worked his way back down Aziraphale’s chest undoing buttons as he went. He paused momentarily at the bottom, fingers poised just above the top of Aziraphale’s trousers.

"Is this, is it okay if ..."

"Yes. " Aziraphale interrupted his incoherent question with an air of impatience.

Crowley dipped his fingers beneath Aziraphale’s waistband, sliding his hands in a circle around the angel, untucking the shirt as he went. When his hands met behind the angel, he couldn't resist lowering them further. Enjoying the feeling of them being squeezed between the curve of Aziraphale’s arse and the tight fabric of his trousers.

Aziraphale gasped, before surging forward and initiating a kiss for the first time. Demanding and greedy, setting a frantic pace Crowley had no choice but to give into. Almost without realising he found himself encircled in the angel’s arms, pulling their crotches flush together. Aziraphale groaned as Crowley found himself grasping in reflex, causing the Angel to buck up into him. He could feel Aziraphale’s hardness again now, pressing against his own. Without conscious thought he found himself rocking against Aziraphale enjoying the intoxicating friction as Aziraphale thrust up against him.

He was overwhelmed with the need to see more of the Angel immediately, feeling like he couldn’t stand another second of delay. He freed one of his hands, eliciting a disappointed whine from Aziraphale. He snapped his fingers and there was suddenly a pile of neatly folded beige next to the bowtie. Aziraphale gasped, and stilled his movements. Crowley froze as he came back to himself and realised what he had done. Of course he was ruining everything, taking Aziraphale straight from undone shirt to naked so quickly. He was doing it again, getting the speed wrong, moving ...

"Too fast"

"what did you say?"

Crowley realised he had said that last bit out loud and regretted the absence of his glasses as Aziraphale tried to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry Angel, I'm going too fast for you. I’m sorry, I'll" he had reached his hand up preparing to snap his fingers again and see if he could fix things, salvage this somehow. But Aziraphale had caught his wrist, grasping it almost too tightly.

"No" he said firmly, before taking a deep breath as if steeling himself to do something difficult. "You weren't going to fast Crowley; I think perhaps I have been the one who has been going to slow. I want, ... I want to go faster now, for you."

"You don't need to, for me, if you don't"

"But I do dearest, I think that is exactly what I need to do and what...” the angel hesitated. Crowley expected him to stop then, to look away or change the subject as he had done so many times before. But his brave angel continued, his eyes were closed and his voice was quiet but he kept talking. “What I have wanted to do so badly, for so long."

Crowley couldn't break his gaze away from the angels face. He couldn't help wondering if maybe he had never woken up and was still dreaming after all. But no this all felt so real, it felt raw and open in a way no dream or fantasy could. Besides in none of his fantasies had undressing Aziraphale ever resulted in less movement than before.

"But you stopped, when I you know" he waved his hand in a vague approximation of the gesture Aziraphale had made earlier.

"Ah, yes … " Aziraphale blushed " well it's just your jeans were slightly rough against my uh, you know my..." he trailed off mid-sentence and flicked his eyes downwards. Crowley followed his gaze, eyes landing on Aziraphale’s Effort for the first time. It was pressed between them, thick and hard, a glint of moisture glistening at the head. He found himself licking his lips, reaching out to brush against the head of Aziraphale’s cock almost involuntarily. He bought his finger to his lips. Anxious to taste Aziraphale for the first time.

Aziraphale whimpered and Crowley remembered himself.

"Right yes, sorry" he said getting to his feet and removing himself from Aziraphale’s lap.

"I didn't mean, don’t', don't go" Aziraphale said hastily.

Crowley smiled as he dropped to his knees in front of the angel. He had, had a small taste but he meant to do so much more. He parted Aziraphale’s bare legs, slotting himself between them.

"Oh" Aziraphale said as Crowley was bending towards his crotch “you don't have to"

Crowley licked once up the base of Aziraphale’s cock, moving into a wet sloppy kiss when he reached the top. Aziraphale squirmed beneath him. Crowley broke contact, tilting his face up to meet Aziraphale’s gaze

"What was that Angel, you want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare"

Crowley smirked, bending back down again to take Aziraphale fully in his mouth. Enjoying the sensation as he felt the head of the angel's cock pressing against the back of his throat. He held himself there for a moment. Using the time to store every part of this experience in his memories, the touch, taste and smell of Aziraphale filling his senses until he could think of nothing else. He started moving then, reaching up until his lips almost brushed the tip of Aziraphale’s cock, before sinking back down slow and deliberate. He bought his tongue into play as he did so, pleased at the noises he was able to draw from Aziraphale as he used it to explore every centimetre of the Effort filling his mouth.

"Please Crowley I need," Crowley flicked his eyes up, making eye contact with the angel, " Please, I need you to go faster."

Never one to deny his angel anything Crowley quickened his pace. Moving his head up and down Aziraphale’s length with abandon. The Angel groaned, and started thrusting up into Crowley’s mouth. Setting a frantic pace that Crowley delighted in his ability to match.

"Yes, Crowley, please yes, I" the angel started babbling incomprehensibly. Crowley smiled, of course his Angel was a talker. He could hear the angel’s breath getting faster and faster, his heartbeat rapidly rising to a crescendo. Crowley reached round, using both hands to grasp the angels butt cheeks, this time with no fabric in the way. He squeezed, pulling the angel in deeper as his cock pulsed and twitched in Crowley’s mouth. Crowley swallowed greedily, making sure he had sucked every last drop from Aziraphale before he released him.

Crowley realised that one of Aziraphale’s hands had found its way back to his hair and had resumed the gentle hair stroking that had started all this. He stayed on his knees, resting his head on Aziraphale’s soft thigh with a sigh of contentment. A supplicant finally receiving benediction after years of pilgrimage. Right now he felt like he could stay this way for eternity. He closed his eyes, preparing to bask in the luxury of his angel’s warmth and enjoy his gentle touch.

All too soon thought his Angel started to move. Gently pushing Crowley’s head off his lap, so he was able to stand up before him. Crowley scrambled to his feet as well, if he stayed on his knees he was far too likely to end up begging the Angel to stay there longer. Aziraphale reached up and pecked Crowley’s cheek, he brushed his hand against Crowley's side briefly before turning away. Crowley registered that Aziraphale was speaking, but the words were buried under the feeling of loss he felt. Now he knew what it was like to touch Aziraphale, any moment he wasn’t doing so seemed unbearable. He needed a moment to adjust to the emptiness again. It has been his default state of being for so long, going back to it should surely be easier than squeezing into the skin tight jeans he wore. The angel was moving to pick up his folded clothes. Crowley was busy suppressing the urge to ask the angel to gather him up instead, to be carried away with him. Time seemed to be moving too quickly, one second Aziraphale was there carefully gathering the pile of his clothes in his arms. The next Aziraphale has moved to the back of the room, opening the door to the stairs that led up to his private space, the space Crowley had never been invited into.

"Crowley, Crowley, honestly Crowley are you listening to me?"

Crowley’s mind had frozen on the image of Aziraphale walking away from him, but when the angels, voice broke through he realised that that the angel had turned back to face him, one hand outstretched in his direction.

"I, uhh what, ngggk" he cursed inwardly at his sudden inability to from even a basic sentence.

"My dear, are you quite alright?"

"No" Crowley wanted to scream out loud because of course he wasn't what, a stupid question. He was lost, and confused and just generally overwhelmed. He had been so close to everything he ever wanted and now it was on the other side of the room. He wasn’t sure how he had even got it in the first place, let alone how to get it back. But there was concern in his angel’s voice, and a worried expression that Crowley couldn’t bear being there for another second. He had to snap himself out of it, he had to be okay because Aziraphale needed him to be okay. His long held instincts when it came to Aziraphale were kicking in, the need to comfort, to protect. To do whatever he could to make him smile. They gave him the power to regain some control. He relaxed his body, painting a smile on his face as he affected his usual air of nonchalance.

"Sorry Angel I didn't hear you, I was just uhhhh" excuse, excuse he needed an excuse, "admiring the view." Oh for Satan's sake where had that come from. He was pretty pleased that he managed to keep his face neutral after realising what he had just said. The thought of yelling the words admiring the view repeatedly at his plants later his only solace.

"Really Crowley," to his surprise Aziraphale looked pleased, before he blushed and looked down. "I'm sure it's not much of a view to look at"

"What are you talking about Angel? It's an amazing view. The best view, a masterpiece. It deserves framing and hanging in the finest galleries. A masterwork, deserving of even the finest masters. Leonardo himself couldn’t not have sculpted this better. Look at it, the curve, the"

Crowley abruptly cut off suddenly realising that a. he had been ranting and that b. he had stalked towards Aziraphale and was gesturing wildly at his naked behind. He closed his eyes in mortification, oh he was going to have so much to yell about to his plants tonight. He should probably leave right now just to make sure he had time to fit it all in.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them that Crowley was trying to work out how to break when the angel coughed politely.

"So am I taking that as a yes to offer then?"

Offer? Aziraphale had made some kind of offer. That must have been what he had said whilst Crowley had been too busy being a drama queen to listen. He realised Aziraphale was looking him at him expectantly. No scratch that, the realisation was missing a few key details. A NAKED Aziraphale, had made him and offer and was now looking at him expectedly. He nodded quickly.

"Yes Angel, of course" he said, because let’s face it, it didn't matter what the angel was offering he was going to say yes. At this point he'd agree to watching the entirety of the sound of music through a hundred times if it meant spending more time close to a naked Aziraphale. 

The angel responded by beaming at him, in that way he had of smiling with his whole body and not just his face.

"Up we go then" he said before setting off up the staircase.

“Up”, “we”, ahh the Angel was expecting him to follow. Of course the bastard expected him to somehow be able to climb stairs, when he had smiled at him like that and made his knees go all weak. His thought was interrupted though when he realised the perfect bottom he had been ranting about only moments before was now suddenly at eye height in front of him. On the other hand, he had never really had much control of his legs anyway, he couldn’t let something like weak knees stop him. He was initially disappointed when they reached the top, and he had to continue moving upwards out of the optimal ogling height range. He was able to console himself however with the chance to get a look around Aziraphale’s private living space for the first time. To absolutely no one’s surprise it was full of books. There were even a few preserved carefully inside a glass case.

Crowley slithered over to them, instantly curious. It wasn't often his angel resorted to keeping books locked away behind glass. He wondered what had merited this extra treatment from Aziraphale. There was something else in the case as well as the five books, a length of thick twine, carefully coiled up. Why did that feel familiar somehow. Oh, He turned his gaze frantically to the books. Otwell Binns, Robert Nixon, Mother Shipton. He knew these books didn't he, weren’t these? He looked up and there it was on a shelf in front of him. Carefully placed directly above the books, an unassuming brown leather bag. He reached a hand out towards it wonderingly, he could even spot a small trace of ash on one side of the bag. He gripped the handle carefully, wanting desperately to confirm that it felt familiar, that he had held this bag before.

"Dearest do come along the bedroom's this ..." Aziraphale paused mid-sentence as he turned round and saw where Crowley was. His gaze dropped to Crowley’s hand clutched around the leather handle. Crowley expected Aziraphale to turn then, to look away, and maybe stutter some kind of excuse. But yet again today his Angel surprised him, raising his eyes back up to meet Crowley. His gaze unflinching and certain. It was a look that contained so many things, an entire history contained in those bright blue eyes. For the first time Crowley was realising what this meant, what Aziraphale had really been saying. Their lives were changing. He found himself dizzy at the realisation. He released his death grip on the satchel, strolling across the room as fast as his long legs would allow him. Careful not to break the loaded eye contact between them until he closed his eyes as their lips met instead. Aziraphale kissed him back. His lips speaking a passion that could hardly be contained. Crowley pushed forward, driving the angel back until he was pinned against the door. He had a half second of delight at the feel of Aziraphale pressed against him, before the partially open door gave way and they stumbled into the room beyond.

Crowley recovered first, his lack of a normal centre of gravity coming in useful for a change. He steadied his angel, twisting himself to keep them both on their feet whilst maintaining as much contact as possible. He resumed their kiss, moving his hand up to Aziraphale’s neck to pull him closer. Aziraphale surged against him eagerly, taking control. Now he was the one pushing, carefully walking Crowley backwards across the room. Crowley felt something hit the back of his knees. He expected the angel might stop there, but he kept moving with a gentle insistence. Crowley briefly found himself falling again. Fortunately, the landing was nice and soft. He realised slightly breathless that he had landed on a bed, soft and sumptuous and covered in,

"A tartan bedspread Angel, really?" He looked up at Aziraphale who was smiling down at him.

"If you are going to mock my interior decorating choices, perhaps I should rethink my decision about bringing you up here" the angel said with a tone that sounded affronted but conflicted wildly with the expression on his face. "If my bed is not to your taste you are welcome to leave it, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this myself." He gestured downwards and Crowley realised that Aziraphale was hard again. The bastard, when did he get so cocky? He might be annoyed if he didn't find it incredibly arousing.

"No. no I didn't say that" he said quickly, "I'll get used to it"

Aziraphale let out a small laugh at that, before conceding and climbing onto the bed. So this was another thing they did now, teased each other and laughed and, he closed his eyes as Aziraphale pulled him closer, held each other whilst they were in bed together. Maybe the world had ended after all, and the new world the young anti-Christ had created was some kind of paradise.

Aziraphale positioned himself above Crowley before looking down with a slight air of disapproval.

"I think it’s about time we got rid of these isn't it" he said, lifting one hand to gesture.

Crowley gasped as he was overwhelmed with the sensation of skin against skin. Frantically trying to work out which bit of contact he wanted to focus on most. Aziraphale shifted, bring his cock in contact with Crowley’s; erect and hard to meet it. That was it, that's the contact to focus on. He thought desperately canting his hips off the bed to grind against Aziraphale. But then Aziraphale was kissing him again, deep and filthy, and Crowley thought maybe he should focus on that instead. The feel of Aziraphale’s tongue against his was starting to become familiar, but he found he couldn’t get enough of it all the same. Aziraphale ground against him, drawing Crowley’s attention downwards again. Starting to move rapidly as his thrusts bought the two of them together. Crowley groaned, it was too much and not enough at the same time. If this continued, he wasn’t going to last long and this would all be over so quickly. He wanted more. The chance to savour and really feel every second of this experience.

He gripped Aziraphale’s hips, flipping them over. Once he was above the angel he reluctantly broke contact. Sitting up and looking down at Aziraphale as he tried to catch his breath.

"What is it dearest?" Aziraphale asked sounding slightly bereft.

Crowley opened his mouth, to deny, to placate. Ready to resume and give into everything Aziraphale wanted.

"It's nothing" he started but Aziraphale stopped him a hand against his chest.

"You can tell me Crowley" he said softly, sitting up "let me in."

"I want," Crowley started but found he couldn't continue. He didn’t have the words to express his desires.

"Yes. Crowley" the angel prompted, "what do you want?"

" I want whatever you want Angel" he responded somehow both a truth and a lie at the same time.

Aziraphale frowned briefly, before his expression changed to slightly smug. "Well then what I want is for you to tell me exactly what you like."

Of course Aziraphale had found a way to twist this back around to him again. Crowley wanted nothing more than to answer, to give into this angel as always. But he still didn't know how. He had thousands of years of hiding his desires. He had constructed a towering dam to keep them back, built of denial and repression and ‘demons don't want things like that’. He couldn't just let everything come pouring out now. Surely Aziraphale must understand that.

Perhaps he did understand after all, had realised that he was going to have to tease the answers out of Crowley slowly like knots out of wool. Because he lent forward and kissed Crowley gently.

"Did you like that?" he asked afterwards, leaning back to observe Crowley again.

Crowley nodded dumbly, hoping that would do, but Aziraphale shook his head.

"I want you to tell me" he said reminding Crowley of their first kiss, what felt like a lifetime ago.

"I like it" he said. Aziraphale gestured from him to continue. "I like it when you kiss me"

"Excellent" Aziraphale said before leaning over and kissing him again, slightly longer this time as if bestowing a gift. He leaned back before reaching out and brushing a hand briefly against Crowley’s cock.

"And this?" he asked, "Do you like this?"

"Yes Angel" Crowley responded eager for another reward now he understood the game, "I like it when you touch my cock"

Aziraphale beamed at him as if had just done something magnificent, before rewarding him with another kiss and a few gentle strokes.

"What we were doing earlier," a note of self-doubt crept into his voice for the first time, "did you like that?"

"Yes Angel, I liked it ..." Crowley trailed off, he could tell the answer wasn't what Aziraphale was hoping for.

"But?" the angel said, firmly giving Crowley no quarter.

Crowley looked away, hoping the angel would give in if he avoided it for long enough. Knowing deep down he wouldn't.

"Too fast." He finally mumbled quietly, still not bringing himself to look at Aziraphale. The angel had other ideas though, placing his hand on Crowley's cheek and guiding his head up so their gazes met.

"I told you Crowley, you aren't going too fast for me. I'm sorry about, what I said, you know back then"

"sss not what I meant," Crowley said the thought of trying to explain what he actually meant almost unbearable.

A sudden look of realisation crossed Aziraphale’s face. "Oh" he exhaled softly.

"Crowley, dearest tell me ..." he paused as if searching for just the right combination of words, "tell me that you like it slow"

Crowley exhaled, a sense of relief washing over him.

"Yes, that's, that's what I like, sometimes." He should be ashamed admitting that he knew. But they were alone just the two of them, and somehow Aziraphale had made it okay. The way he has said the word slow had been positively scandalous. Making it sound like something enticing and filthy. Like something no self-respecting demon should have any problem being into.

Aziraphale kissed him again, deeper than their last few kisses but at a much steadier pace than before. He reached a hand up to cup Crowley’s face, using a thumb to gently stroke the side of his cheek. Crowley leaned into the contact. It was slow and sensual, and everything he had ever imagined kissing Aziraphale to be. As if the angel had somehow reached into Crowley's head and pulled out every one of his most secret desires. He melted into the kiss, losing himself completely in the sensation.

Aziraphale ended the kiss, but didn’t pull away. His hand was still on Crowley's cheek and he rested his forehead against Crowley’s.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"yesss" Crowley hissed softly.

"Do you want me to tell you what I want dearest?" Aziraphale, pulled back slightly and gentle twisted Crowley's head. So his breath tickled Crowley's ear as he continued. "I want you inside of me. Would you like that dear?"

"nngkk" Crowley released a noise that made him wonder if he was going to just discorporate right there on the spot. He definitely shouldn’t do that. Who knew when he would get a body again, and there was no way he could bear to be away from Aziraphale now. Not when he was kissing him softly one minute and then whispering dirty words in his ear the next. He wanted to pin his inner thoughts against a wall and give them a good talking to. Here he was going off on tangents, rather than enthusiastically offering to give Aziraphale anything and everything he ever wanted.

"I'm not sure that 'nngk' counts as an answer to my question Crowley" Aziraphale said with a fond smile. 

Crowley opened his mouth to speak, willing his brain to produce actual words. Unfortunately, his mind was far too busy looping, the words 'I want you inside of me' on endless repeat and didn’t seem inclined to obey him right now. Aziraphale didn't seem to taking offense to his complete and total meltdown. If anything he looked amused. Presumably seeing a demon gaping like an idiot at him was funny in some way

"Shut your mouth dear, what are you doing trying to catch flies?" he asked using a finger to push Crowley's chin and close his mouth with an audible click of teeth.

Crowley felt that he should probably respond to that in some way. The angel was clearly expecting something based on the way he was looking at him. He knew he should respond with something scathing, even a snarl would do. But sadly Crowley.exe was definitely still not working, his brain just producing an error message every time he tried to ask it to do something.

Fortunately, the angel took pity on him.

"You can just nod if you like."

He should probably be annoyed by that, pity from an Angel. But feelings like annoyance and feigned demonic pride were for a Crowley who had the ability to function. Instead he just nodded enthusiastically, pleased he had at least still had control of his body, even if his brain had deserted him.

"Excellent. Do tell, if you need me to ..." he interrupted his sentence by running both his hands firmly, but slowly up Crowley's chest. "slow down."

"hnnngk" at some point Crowley was going to be able to speak again, but it was definitely not now. Probably not anytime soon either.

Aziraphale gently pushed Crowley back, laying him down on the bed. The angel leaned down and kissed him again, unhurried and insistent. He started making his way down Crowley's body his hands making lazy circles as he did so. Crowley’s skin tingled everywhere Aziraphale touched him. The angel's warmth leaving a trail against cold skin that he never wanted to stop feeling. He was disappointed in a way that his body remained unmarked. Wanting the evidence of the angel's affection burned into him. Still the pace Aziraphale was setting was the perfect speed, slow enough that Crowley had time to map every single movement in his mind. Knowing that even if nothing visible remained, in a thousand years’ time he would still be able to picture the exact pattern Aziraphale had traced onto his skin.

Aziraphale’s hands had worked their way steadily downwards, creeping inevitably closer to the Effort Crowley had made. Ready and waiting for the angel’s touch. He had closed his eyes; allowing all of his attention to focus solely on the location of Aziraphale’s heavenly fingers. So he was entirely unprepared when instead of Aziraphale’s hands, he felt the moistness of his tongue against his cock instead. He almost surged off the bed, a mass of writhing limbs and squirming hips. But Aziraphale’s hand were gripping the top of his things. Holding him steady, the pressure grounding him, allowing him to maintain control and focus on the feeling of the angel’s mouth against his cock.

The angel seemed to be determined to reach everything part of Crowley’s cock. Placing wet, sloppy kisses, as he went, leaving Crowley wet and over sensitive. The cold air against where had just been, contrasting with the exquisite warmth of the angel's mouth. When he couldn’t stand it anymore Crowley released a whine. Low and needy. Desperate to have more of that warmth on him, to feel it all at once. The angel placed one last kiss before pulling away completely, removing his tight grip from Crowley’s thighs at the same time.

Crowley opened his eyes, desperate to see where his angel had gone. To discover why he had taken his warmth away from Crowley altogether. He lost the ability to breathe when he saw what the angel was doing. Aziraphale climbed on top of Crowley, knees straddling hips, as he aligned himself perfectly.

Crowley's concern for Aziraphale allowed him to finally find his voice again. "Angel don't you need; you know some kind of preparation. I don't want to hurt you"

"I may have been a tad impatient in that regard and, uh, hurried things along so to speak." Aziraphale said blushing. "Besides, " he continued smiling down at Crowley "you could never hurt me"

For a moment Crowley could do nothing but stare at Aziraphale, once more finding himself lost in Aziraphale’s eyes as they both heard the unspoken words between them. Aziraphale maintained the eye contact as he started to lower himself. Taking Crowley inside inch by glorious inch. They both exhaled as Aziraphale’s weight came to rest fully upon Crowley’s skin. Crowley stayed still for a moment, capturing every sensation of having the angel wrapped around him. A tight, constricting heat that he never wanted to escape from. He could live in this moment for the rest of eternity, the angel on him, and around him and looking down at him with love.

When he thought he had burned every part of the image into his mind, down to the way every last strand of Aziraphale’s hair lay against his flushed forehead, Crowley closed his eyes. Shifting his hip slightly and giving Aziraphale the signal to move. The angel raised himself up before lowering back down, and Crowley thrust up to meet him. Heat pooling in his belly as Aziraphale released a gentle moan at the contact. Crowley moved again, determined to find the same spot and be the one to cause Aziraphale to make that noise again.

"Yes Crowley, please, yes"

He must have succeeded because his angel was talking again. His tone was quieter than downstairs, hushed and reverent, sounding almost like a whispered prayer. Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s thighs for purchase, using them as leverage to hit that sweet spot again, and again. The two of them finding a rhythm together, allowing Crowley to aim each thrust perfectly, slow and deliberate.

Crowley opened his eyes, Aziraphale’s head was thrown back, as he kept up his litany of praise and pleading. Crowley felt like a sinner in a church, unworthy of seeing something so pure and sacred. Despite this he was still craving more, wanting to see the expression on Aziraphale’s face. Needing to know exactly what he looked like as Crowley made him come undone. He carefully rolled them over. Now Aziraphale was spread out beneath him, he resumed his thrusts focusing on watching the impact each had on the angel’s face.

Holding himself at just the right angle, to see all of Aziraphale and move inside him in just the right was harder than he thought. He released his wigs with a whoosh. Using them to help stabilise and provide more weight to his movements.

"Oh, Crowley." Aziraphale was looking him with an expression that if Crowley didn't know any better he would call wonder. As if Aziraphale was looking up at something beautiful instead of a yellow-eyed, black-winged demon with gangly limbs and an overabundance of sharp edges.

"So gorgeous, my love, so beautiful"

Crowley had to look down, the combination of the angel’s words and the admiration in his eyes to much to take in all at once. His eyes fell on Aziraphale’s effort instead. Hard and straining, and crying out for attention. Crowley moved one of his hands from where it had been caressing the angels hip, to stroke against the silky skin of Aziraphale’s cock instead. The angel's sharp inhale drawing Crowley’s gaze back up to his face. Their eyes kept finding their way back to each other, like magnets, colliding back together no matter how far apart they were pulled. He wrapped his hand fully around Aziraphale’s, effort. His long fingers reaching perfectly, as it had been made to fit him exactly.

Remembering Aziraphale's earlier pleas for speed, he set a face pace with his hand. An exhilarating counterpoint to the slow movements he was still making inside Aziraphale. The angel's words turned to incoherent noises, cut with ragged breathes. As if he was the one now rendered speechless. Crowley saw it in Aziraphale’s face first, the moment when he reached his pinnacle. Before feeling the angels body tense around him and cock pulse inside his hand. He thrust one more time before following his angel over the edge, the overwhelming evidence of Aziraphale’s pleasure all Crowley needed to finish.

He collapsed down onto Aziraphale. His wings spread out either side of him. He felt Aziraphale running a hand over the feathers, they were sensitive in a way they had never been before. The touch agonising and yet exquisite. Despite that he felt a sense of relief with every movement the angel's hand made. He realised as Aziraphale’s other hand started on his right wing that the angel was smoothing his rumpled feathers. Carefully preening them back into place. He relaxed into the touch as the over-sensitivity from his orgasm abated, and the touches settled from almost too much to just right. By the time Aziraphale had finished he felt loose and boneless, ready to sink into the softness of his angel for ever.

"There we are my dear, all spic and span, and tickety boo" Aziraphale said. Stroking one hand down the centre of Crowley’s, spine. An implicit signal Crowley explicitly understood to settle his wings away again. Crowley was vaguely aware of the angel gently repositioning him after that. He was too far gone to do much to help, other than being pliant and mouldable, ready to be positioned in whatever way the angel wanted him. Somewhere he registered Aziraphale cleaning them up. Only noticing the unpleasant stickiness between them as it disappeared. He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep again. Comforted by the warm body of his angel still pressed against him.

He awoke feeling safe and contented in a way he never had before. The blanket over him was heavier then he was used to, and the pillow he was using was divinely soft. He realised that he could feel a hand stroking his hair again. He opened his eyes, to find that his head was pillowed on Aziraphale's lap. The angel seemed entirely unaware the demon was awake. Focused on the book he was holding in one hand, the other absentmindedly running through Crowley’s hair. The angel was lit by the first rays of dawn coming through the window, his pale hair shining against his head like a halo. The image was beautiful and so perfectly Aziraphale that it almost hurt. Crowley refused to close his eyes though, afraid to even blink and miss a second of this moment. Soon Aziraphale would notice he was awake and there would be conversation and movement. But for now he could revel in this intimate stillness. Enjoying the knowledge that after six thousand years, the two of them had finally found the right speed.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was pretty much meant to be just a quick fic based on the song "Wet Dog" by the Mad Caddies. It spiraled a bit into one of the longest things I've ever written, and the longest fic I've actually reached the end of!
> 
> The opening notes are lyrics from the song, which I highly recommend despite how the title makes it sound. I have loved this song for years and I think it just works for Crowley and Aziraphale.
> 
> [ Listen on Youtube! ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CPCmDKO_-o)


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